Fear of the Unknown
by aka IrishDachsie
Summary: A somewhat bizarre case...along with some G/S...
1. Chapter One

Title: Fear of the Unknown

Author: IrishDachsie

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Other than Peter and Susanne Marsden, I do not own these characters. I also do not own anything having to do with CSI. Dammit. I'm also not making any profit from this story.

Fear of the Unknown

Chapter One

Grissom held up the yellow crime scene tape and ducked under it, followed closely by Nick. They entered the seemingly innocent-looking duplex in silence and walked down the hall.   
  
Making a left turn into the kitchen, Grissom was greeted by a small smile from Sara as she looked up from her camera. "Hey..."  
  
"Hey...cause of death?"  
  
"Gunshot to the face."  
  
Nick came to a stop beside of Grissom and glanced at the body before looking around the kitchen doused in blood. "Well...this doesn't look nice..."  
  
Grissom gave him a cursory glance. "Death seldom does, Nick. Process the kitchen." Turning, he made his way further down the hall towards the living room.  
  
His eyes focused on the wall and he studied his surroundings. "Sara!"  
  
She quickly made her way to the living room and stood beside him, her mouth hanging open slightly. "Dear God..."  
  
The room was covered in blood, on the far wall the word "Freak" had been scrawled in what appeared to be blood as well. "Has the vic been id'd?"  
  
"Yeah...Peter Marsden, age 24...he lived here with his sister, Susanne."  
  
"Well...I'm thinking someone didn't care too much for Peter."  
  
"You think?"  
  
They both turned around to see Brass standing behind them. "The 'freak's' sister is outside...she just got off work, and is demanding to see little brother."  
  
"Sara..."  
  
"Pictures...got it..."  
  
He smiled at her, still amazed that she always knew what he was going to say. "I'm going to talk with Ms. Marsden..."  
  
As Grissom and Brass made their way back down the hall, Nick called out to him. "Hey Griss? Can you take a look at this?"  
  
Grissom carefully stepped into the kitchen and walked to the counter where Nick was staring at a shot glass. "What do you have, Nick?"  
  
He gingerly picked up the glass and held it under the light. "Looks a little thick to be wine, doesn't it?"

  


Grissom eyed the liquid carefully before smelling it. "Blood. Animal or human?"  
  
"Getting ready to find out."  
  
"Let me know. I'm going out to talk to the sister."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Grissom cautiously approached the young woman, obviously in distress over her brother. He watched her for a brief moment as she paced back and forth on the lawn. "Ms. Marsden?"  
  
She spun around quickly and stepped towards him. "Tell me Peter's okay!"  
  
"Ms. Marsden, my name is Gil Grissom. I'm with the Las Vegas Crime Lab."  
  
"I'm sorry Mr. Gri..whoever...I'm not really concerned with who you are. I just need to know that my brother is going to be okay."  
  
Taking a deep breath, and gently taking her arm, he led her to the brick wall surrounding the duplex. "Ms. Marsden, I'm sorry. But...I can't tell you that your brother is okay."  
  
She leaned heavily against the wall and stared at him, her eyes filling with emotion. "What...what happened?"  
  
"That's what we're trying to figure out."  
  
"How?"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"How did he...die?"  
  
"Ma'am..."  
  
"Tell me...was it...did he...suffer?"  
  
Grissom sighed heavily. _How am I supposed to answer this? I have no idea if he was tortured before or... _"I don't believe so, Ms. Marsden."  
  
He waited a few moments to allow Susanne to regain some composure before continuing. If anything, his time that he had been spending with Sara had taught him more about being openly compassionate. And...at this moment, he was grateful for that.  
  
"Ms. Marsden, did Peter have any enemies that you know of?"  
  
She wiped the tears from her face and sighed heavily. "He mentioned that some people were giving him some problems, but he thought it would just blow over..."  
  
"Did he mention any names, or describe their appearances?"

  


She shook her head slowly. "He said it wasn't important...that...it would just go away in time..."  
  
Nick walked up and whispered something into Grissom's ear. Grissom looked back at Susanne. "Would you excuse me for one moment?"  
  
Nodding her head, she allowed her tears to flow once more.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"What is it, Nick?"  
  
"Tested the blood..."  
  
"And?"  
  
"Human...and...it's not the vic's..."  
  
"Blood...in a shot glass, and it's not Peter Marsden's?"  
  
Nick nodded his head. "Freaky, huh?"  
  
Grissom narrowed his eyes at the younger man before walking back towards Susanne. Curious as to where this was going, Nick followed.  
  
"Ms. Marsden?"  
  
She looked up from the ground, her eyes swollen and red from her tears. "Yes?"  
  
"Was Peter involved in any Satanic rituals or anything of that sort?"  
  
She shook her head violently. "No. God, no. Why?"  
  
Nick picked this opportunity to speak up. "Ms. Marsden, my name is Nick Stokes. And, we found a shot glass about half full of blood. And it wasn't Peter's blood."  
  
"No...it was my blood..."  
  
Grissom tilted his head slightly and studied the young woman in front of him. "Why was your blood in a shot glass on the kitchen counter?"  
  
"I'm his donor."   
  
"Donor?" The confusion could almost be heard in Nick's voice.   
  
Susanne nodded slowly. "Yes. Peter is a vampire."  
  
Grissom continued to study her, watching her body movements, listening to the tone of her voice. He kept his silence as Nick continued to speak.

  


"A vampire? Ms. Marsden...we didn't find any bite marks or anything resembling vampirism on Peter's body."  
  
Susanne glared at Nick for a moment before opening her mouth to speak. "Well, Mr. Stokes...you either read too much or watch far too many movies. And, judging by the smugness in your tone, I'm guessing the latter."  
  
She hesitated only a second before continuing. "Vampires do not go around sucking the life from people. They're not afraid of crucifixes. They are not repelled by garlic. They can see their reflections. They can be in the sunlight. They do not sleep in coffins. They are just like you and me and everyone else, except for the fact that they need to feed on blood once in a while in order to keep their energy levels intact. Peter was a good person. He held down a job. He loved his family. He was a loyal friend. But, a few of the people who knew about his vampirism thought of him as a..." She halted. Unable to get the words out any longer.  
  
Grissom took a deep breath and looked at her. "A freak?"  
  
Her eyes shot to him and locked with his. "Yes..." Her voice was barely above a whisper.  
  
Grissom nodded and gestured for Brass to stay with her. Slowly, he walked back towards the house...with Nick right on his heels.   
  
"Griss...tell me you don't honestly believe this..."  
  
"I'll believe what the evidence will tell us, Nick. Test the blood in the glass against the sister's. We'll start there."  
  
"Grissom...vampires? Come on. That's nothing but a myth. Something for Hollywood to make money off of..."  
  
Grissom stopped walking and glared at him. "Kind of like scuba divers in trees, Nick?"  
  
"Hey...that's different...that's plausible..."  
  
"And...this could be too...process the evidence, Nick."  
  
Nick watched Grissom walk into the house and shook his head. "God, I feel like I just stepped into the X-Files..."  
  
Headlights pulling into the driveway caught his attention, and he smiled as Warrick and Catherine walked towards him. "Hey...Mulder, Scully...Skinner's inside...I think he's looking for you..."   
  
Catherine turned to Warrick with a puzzled look on her face. "What the hell?"  
  
He shrugged his shoulders and chuckled. "Sounds like he turned in Animal Planet for the Sci-Fi channel to me...let's go see what we've got..."

  



	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

  
  


Grissom walked up behind Sara and placed his hand on her shoulder. She turned her head and gave him a smile. "I need to get the film to the lab..."

  


He nodded and looked back at the wall. The word screaming at him silently. He let his hand slowly fall from her shoulder and come to a rest beside hers, brushing against it slightly. "Why don't you bring the pictures with you when you come over for breakfast and we'll go over them after we eat..."

  


Her smile widened slightly. "Sounds good, Griss."

  


He gave her a small wink and turned his eyes back towards the wall. Taking a few steps forward, he stopped and looked down. He knelt down and pulled his tweezers out, plucking a small white fragment from the carpet. 

  


"Find something?"

  


He looked up to see Warrick looking down at him. "Yeah...could be...a piece of...tooth, maybe..." Bringing himself back to an upright position he glanced around the room. "What do you have, Warrick?"

  


"Vic's blood. All over the place."

  


His eyes were drawn back to the crudely written word on the wall. "What about that?"

  


"Yeah...written in the vic's blood. Catherine lifted some prints, Nick found a few boot impressions in the blood."

  


Sara stood quietly beside of Grissom, her eyes studying a picture on the mantle. "Freak..."

  


Her one-word utterance brought both sets of eyes to rest on her. Grissom spoke gently. "What?"

  


"Someone considered him a freak, right?"

  


Warrick nodded in agreement. Grissom stood still, patiently awaiting Sara's theory.

  


"But...in these pictures...there's nothing freakish about him. Mainly, a 24 year old male would be considered a freak if he had multiple visible piercings, tattoos, odd hair color...something that would make him LOOK like a freak...Peter Marsden looked like an average clean-cut 24 year old Pre-Med student or something."

  


Grissom spoke calmly. "Maybe what made him a so-called freak wasn't about outward appearances."

  


Warrick glanced at Sara. Seeing that she wasn't going to say anything, he began to speak. "Well, there's nothing to indicate that he had a physical handicap, or that he was mentally unstable. He didn't have a criminal record..."

  


A smile slowly formed on Sara's face as she watched Grissom's eyes. "What aren't you telling us?"

  


"Nick found a glass of blood in the kitchen. The sister says it's her blood." He paused momentarily. He looked into Sara's eyes before glancing at Warrick and then continuing. "She says that she was Peter's donor."

  


"Donor?" Sara's eyes widened slightly.

  


Grissom nodded. "She claims that Peter was a vampire and she donated her blood to him to keep his energy levels up."

  


Warrick took a deep breath and exhaled. "Well, that's definitely on the freakish scale..."

  


Sara shook her head. "So...Peter's a vampire, Susanne's his donor...and some unknown person shoots him in the face...why?"

  


Grissom tilted his head slightly and looked at her. "Fear."

  


Warrick looked back at the wall. "Fear of the Freak?"

  


Grissom turned towards the young man and shook his head. "Fear of the unknown."

  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  


He walked quickly down the hall to the interrogation room. Sara had gone to drop off the film, Warrick and Catherine were working on the prints and fragments, and Nick was tucked away in the lab with Greg analyzing blood samples. It was obvious that Susanne didn't care for Nick, and Grissom figured it would be best to talk to her alone...well, with Brass. He didn't really blame Susanne. He didn't care for Nick's tone himself. _I'll have to have a word with him about that later. But...first things first._

  


He calmly walked into the room and sat across from Susanne, who was engaged in conversation with Brass. She looked from the Detective to Grissom and tried to force a small smile, failing miserably. "What can I do to help, Mr. Grissom?"

  


He leaned forward in his chair, placing his arms on the table and clasping his hands together. "Tell me about your brother."

  


A faint smile graced her lips for a brief moment. "What do you want to know?"

  


"Everything you can tell me."

  


She nodded and reached for the box of tissues that Brass had placed on the table beside of her. "Okay, I'm assuming you want to know about Peter post-vampirism."

"Yes...and...how did he become a vampire?"

  


She smiled gently at him, her dark eyes shining with tears. "Peter was born a vampire. He was Latent until two years ago."

  


"Latent?" Grissom's question was not condescending. He was merely trying to understand. 

  


"Yes...kind of like...hibernation, almost. He didn't even know he was a vampire. Not until he started going through his Awakening."

  


She didn't even wait for Grissom to ask, she could see by the look in his eyes that he wasn't familiar with the term. "Awakening is the process of change. When the vampire's nature begins to emerge."

  


He nodded slowly. "How does that happen?"

  


"It starts with unexplainable nightmares. Ones that he couldn't remember. He would wake up terrified, but not knowing why. Then his energy began to drop. I took him to every doctor in town. None of them could find anything physically wrong with him. They sent him to psychiatrists. They couldn't find anything emotionally wrong with him. He was confused, I was confused. And then it happened."

  


"What happened?"

  


"Blood lust. He began to crave it. Like a smoker craves nicotine."

  


"How did you determine that it was due to vampirism?"

  


"We met Lucas. Lucas Franklin. He became one of our closest friends. He helped Peter through the rest of his Awakening. He helped me understand what was happening to Peter."

  


"And...where is Mr. Franklin now?"

  


The tears welled up in her eyes once again and spilled out onto her cheeks. "He...he was killed in a car accident three weeks ago."

  


"Ms. Marsden...how many people knew of Peter's condition?"

  


She shook her head slowly. "In all honesty, I'm not sure. Lucas told him to be careful who he talked to about it. People don't understand. People only know of Bram Stoker's Dracula or Anne Rice's LeStat. They know fiction. They don't want to know the truth. But, Peter was a very trusting person...too trusting at times. He said he wouldn't hide who he was."

  


As she broke down in tears, Grissom poured her a glass of water and stood. Walking around the table, he set the glass in front of her and sat down on the edge of the table. "Ms. Marsden...we will find out what happened. And we will find out who did this to your brother."

  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  


He was busy setting the table when the doorbell rang. With a smile on his face, he quickly walked to the door and opened it. "Hi..."

  


"Hi, yourself..."

  


He closed the door behind her and pulled her into his arms. "Are you hungry?"

  


Her fingers ran through the soft curls at the nape of his neck. "Actually, yes I am..."

  


He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her lips, which she deepened quickly. He returned her passion for a few moments before slowly pulling back. "Sara..."

  


"Hmm?"

  


He smiled down at her, his blue eyes shining brightly. "Come on, breakfast is going to get cold..."

  



	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

  
  


"So, what did Susanne say?" She leaned against the counter and watched him as he carefully put the freshly washed breakfast dishes away.

  


Closing the cabinet door, he turned around and folded his arms across his chest. "Well...she explained Peter's vampirism...and the fact that he had gone against the advice of his...mentor, for a lack of a better word..."

  


She cocked an eyebrow at him and silently urged him to continue. 

  


"Lucas Franklin advised him to keep his...condition...quiet. For safety reasons." He slowly walked past her and took hold of her hand, leading her into the living room.

  


"And...he didn't..."

  


He shook his head slowly. "Now, he's dead." 

  


He sat down on the brown leather sofa and pulled her down beside of him before reaching for the file that she had brought along with her. Pulling the photographs out, he carefully spread them across the coffee table in front of them.

  


"So, have you talked to this Lucas?"

  


With another shake of his head, he lifted a photograph to better examine it. "Killed in a car accident three weeks ago."

  


She was silent for a moment as she looked over the pictures. "How many people had he told?"

  


"No idea. She said that Peter didn't want to hide who he was."

  


"Hate crime of a different genre..."

  


He turned to look at her, a silent question in his eyes. 

  


"Well, I've handled cases dealing with racial prejudice, violence against homosexuals, hate based on religious backgrounds...but...this...Grissom, this is definitely...different..."

  


"I believe her." His eyes never left hers, searching them for acceptance of his statement.

  


She nodded in agreement and pulled out another folder from her bag and handed it to him. "So do I."

  


He opened the folder and smiled as he looked through the numerous articles. "Someone's been researching..."

  


"Have to know what we're dealing with...right?"

  


"Okay...theory?" He looked at her, his blue eyes sparkling in the light.

  


"He knew the person well. It wasn't merely an acquaintance."

  


He grinned and looked back at the pictures. "Nothing was moved, nothing was taken. Respect for the residents, perhaps...respect for Susanne?"

  


She nodded and continued with her thoughts. "I don't think it was pre-meditated. In all likelihood, the person had just found out...and...snapped."

  


"Neither Peter nor Susanne had a gun in the house."

  


"Used his own gun...gang banger, drug dealer...carried it for his own protection..."

  


He picked up a picture of Peter and studied it carefully. "The Marsdens don't strike me as the type of people to consort with gang bangers or drug dealers..."

  


She nodded in agreement. "By all accounts, he was a good kid." She thought for a moment and turned to look at him. "Where did he work?"

  


He pulled out the file and read quickly. "B'More Security, 1928 Western Avenue...he worked in the office."

  


"That would explain why HE didn't have a gun...but, the guards there do..."

  


He looked at her and nodded. "Are you tired?"

  


She shook her head and smiled.

  


"Want to go find out who he talked to at work?"

  


She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips and reached across him, grabbing the keys to his Tahoe from the end table. "I'll drive..."

  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  


After a brief detour to pick up Brass, they were quickly on their way.

  


"God, don't you CSI's ever sleep?"

  


Grissom glanced at Sara before turning to look in the back seat. "Did you when you were one of us?"

  


"Actually...yes, I did..."

  


Pulling into the parking lot and shutting off the engine, Sara looked at Brass. "Well, I don't...and...we're here. Let's go."

  


"Demanding, isn't she?"

  


Grissom grinned as he climbed out of the Tahoe. "Yeah, she can be..."

  


Brass shook his head as he followed Grissom closely. "And, that's possibly more than I need to know..."

  


The three walked into the building and Brass walked up to the window, flashing his credentials. "Captain Jim Brass, Las Vegas PD...I need to speak with the person in charge around here, please..."

  


The receptionist looked up at him and nodded quickly, giving Grissom and Sara a quick glance. "Yes, sir..."

  


As the woman behind the glass picked up the phone, Brass turned to Grissom with a smile on his face. "You know...sometimes, I just feel so powerful..."

  


Sara rolled her eyes and leaned against the wall. Grissom gave him a small smile. "Amazing what a badge can do..."

  


Brass chuckled and then turned his attention back to the blonde who was hanging up the phone. "Mr. Thiery will be right out, sir."

  


"Thank you."

  


A moment later, the door opened and a tall dark-haired man walked into the lobby. "Captain Brass?"

  


Brass extended his hand towards the gentleman. "That would be me..."

  


"I'm Mike Thiery, can I help you?"

  


"Well, I hope so." Gesturing to the two standing behind him, he continued. "This is Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle from Criminalistics. They're investigating the homicide of one of your employees."

  


"Peter..." The man's face dropped. "Come in my office, please..."

  


The followed Mr. Thiery through the halls, Grissom and Sara taking in everyone's reaction to their presence. One certain individual seemed particularly nervous. Grissom glanced at Sara to see if she had noticed it as well. She returned his glance quickly, giving him his answer. _Of course, she did...did you think she wouldn't?_

  


As they entered his office, Mr. Thiery closed the door behind them. "Please...have a seat." Waiting until all three individuals had been seated, he sat down behind his desk. "How can I help you?"

  


Grissom watched the man closely as Sara began to question him. "Mr. Thiery, had Peter been experiencing any problems lately at work?"

  


He shook his head slowly. "No...no, Peter was an exemplary employee. Extremely punctual, effective in his work...personally, I wish I had more employees like him. He was a very eager young man. Always wanting to help others. Everyone liked him..."

  


Grissom narrowed his eyes slightly and then relaxed. "Not everyone, Mr. Thiery. Someone murdered him."

  


Thiery looked at Grissom cautiously as Sara asked him another question. "When was the last time you saw him?"

  


"About 5:30 last night. He was getting ready to leave and had stopped in the parking lot to talk to Ben."

  


"Ben?"

  


"Yes. Ben Garrett. He's one of the guards here."

  


Grissom looked at Brass quickly. Knowing full well what Grissom was thinking, Brass directed his attention towards the man behind the desk. "Mr. Thiery, we're going to need to speak with Mr. Garrett."

  


The man nodded. "Of course." He pulled up the work schedule on his computer and scanned it quickly. "He's currently on the grounds. I'll have him paged."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

  
  


Mike Thiery picked up the phone and punched the numbers into the keypad. Waiting a few seconds, he entered what Grissom assumed to be Thiery's extension number and replaced the receiver back in its cradle. The man looked at Grissom and stated the obvious. "He'll call back in a minute."

  


Grissom merely nodded and glanced at Sara. She could feel his eyes on her, knowing that he was wanting her to continue to question the man behind the desk. She tilted her head slightly, much to Brass' amusement. _She gets more like Grissom every day._ He hid his smile.

  


"Mr. Thiery, how long has Ben Garrett worked for you?"

  


"Three years...he started not long after Peter." He looked at Sara for a moment and took a deep breath. "You don't think Ben had something to do with this, do you?"

  


Grissom's voice answered him. "That's what we're trying to figure out, Mr. Thiery."

  


The ring of the phone took Thiery's eyes from Grissom as he reached for the receiver. "Mike Thiery."

  


He was quiet for a few seconds, listening to the voice on the other end. "Ben...yeah...I was wondering if you could come by my office for a few minutes, please."

  


After a few more brief seconds, his mouth opened again. "Okay...thanks..." 

  


Hanging up the phone, he looked at Grissom. "He'll be right here."

  


"Thank you, Mr. Thiery."

  


Shifting his eyes towards Brass, Mike asked quietly, "Should I...leave...when he gets here?"

  


"Well, we would prefer to speak with him alone. If you don't mind."

  


Mike shook his head slowly. "No...no, of course not."

  


A soft knock on the door brought Thiery from his chair and as he walked around his desk, he exhaled heavily. Opening the door, he quickly ushered the young man inside.

  


"Hey Mike...what's going on?" He looked cautiously around the office at the three individuals seated quietly.

  


"Ben...this is Captain Brass from the police department. He wants to talk to you about Peter."

  


Ben's face paled slightly as he nodded slowly. "Okay..."

  


Mike placed his hand gently on Ben's shoulder. "I'm going to step outside...if you need anything, just let me know..."

  


Grissom and Sara exchanged a quick glance and then both looked at Brass. Jim gave them a barely noticeable shrug and waited for Mike to close the door behind him.

  


Ben looked around nervously as he dug his hands into his pockets. "So...what do you want to know?"

  


Brass stood and gestured to the chair. "Have a seat...we just want to talk."

  


Ben slowly made his way to the chair and sat down, looking at Grissom and Sara carefully sitting a couple of feet from him. Brass sat down on the edge of Mr. Thiery's desk and crossed his arms.

  


"Ben...this is Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle from the Crime Lab...they're investigating Peter's homicide."

  


Ben glanced at the two criminalists and then looked back at Brass. "Okay..."

  


Brass studied the young man carefully before continuing. He was obviously nervous. _It doesn't automatically make him guilty though._ "Ben, we know that you were the last person to talk to Peter here yesterday."

  


He nodded. "Yeah. I saw him in the parking lot as he was leaving work. He asked me to come by the house after my shift."

  


Grissom raised an eyebrow. 

  


Brass uncrossed his arms and rested his palms on the desk on either side of him. "What time was your shift over?"

  


"Eight. But, then I had to pick my brother up from work at nine. And...then we went to Peter and Susanne's house."

  


Grissom cleared his throat softly. "What time did you leave the Marsden residence?"

  


Ben licked his dry lips. Looking directly into Grissom's eyes, he answered. "_I _left around midnight."

  


Picking up on his emphasis on the pronoun, Sara spoke. "What time did your brother leave?"

  


He shook his head slowly and swallowed. "I'm...not really sure what time Carl left."

  


Grissom watched the boy carefully. "You and...Carl...arrived together?"

  


"Yes."

  


"But...you left him there?"

  


"Yeah...I had to go pick someone up. And...he said that he would ask Susanne for a ride home when she got there."

  


Sara clicked her pen closed and looked at Ben. "Susanne?"

  


A brief smile appeared on Ben's lips. "Yeah. Carl really likes Susanne. He was going to ask her out last night when she came home."

  


Grissom leaned forward in his chair slightly. "Ben...did you know about Peter's vampirism?"

  


Ben nodded immediately. "Sure, why?"

  


"And, you didn't have a problem with it?"

  


"He doesn't have a problem with me being gay...why would I have a problem with him being a vampire?" He watched the older man's face for some type of response. Seeing none, he sighed. "That's who I went to pick up last night. Jason. My boyfriend. Jason Stewart."

  


Grissom merely nodded. "We will have to confirm that..."

  


"Yeah...I know. It's just..." Ben's voice trailed off into silence as he looked over towards Sara.

  


Her posture mimicked Grissom's as she leaned forward slightly. "Just?"

  


Ben shook his head slowly. "It's just...Carl...he doesn't know."

  


She raised an eyebrow slightly as he continued. "He's going to find out...isn't he?"

  


She nodded slowly. "Chances are...yes. Is that a problem?"

  


Ben inhaled deeply and shrugged his shoulders softly. "It might be. He has a...temper on him sometimes. Especially when it comes to...homosexuality."

  


Grissom watched the boy carefully before focusing his eyes on the left side of his belt. "Ben? Is that gun standard issue for security guards?"

  


Ben's hand automatically went to his holster. "No...this is mine. I left the gun I normally carry here at Peter's house last night." He glanced around at the three investigators nervously. "I always take it out."

  


Brass crossed his arms against his chest and looked at Ben. "Do you always leave it there?"

  


"No...I was...I was running late to pick Jason up and forgot it."

  


Grissom's mind automatically went back over the crime scene. A gun had not been found. "Ben, where did you leave it?"

  


"On the mantle. Beside of the picture of Peter and Susanne with their parents. That's where I always put it." 

  


Grissom looked at Sara, then to Brass. Brass gave him a single shake of his head. He turned back to Ben and was quiet for a moment. 

  


"Ben, we didn't find your gun at the scene last night."

  


He watched as the confusion clouded Ben's eyes for a moment and then the realization began to set in. His eyes closed and he took a sharp intake of air. "Oh God..."

  


"Ben?" Sara's voice was soft and comforting. Ben opened his eyes slowly and looked at her. "Do you know where Carl is right now?"

  


Ben glanced at the clock on the wall and nodded. "Yeah...he's at work. Southwestern Steel...on Blazing Saddle Avenue."

  


Brass wrote down the information quickly and pulled his cellphone out of his pocket before walking out of the office. Grissom watched Ben closely. He felt bad for the boy. It didn't look very good for his brother. 

  


Grissom licked his dry lips and spoke quietly. "Thank you for your help, Ben."

  


Ben nodded slowly. "Yeah..."

  


Ben stood and began to walk towards the door. Turning around, he looked at the two criminalists. "Mr. Grissom?"

  


"Yes?"

  


"Carl...overall...he's a good kid. He just...has some issues..."

  


Grissom watched him as he slowly turned, opened the door, and walked out of the room. 

  


"Poor kid..."

  


Grissom turned to Sara and nodded. "Yeah...first he loses his best friend. And now..."

  


"It's looking like he may lose a brother."

  


Brass stuck his head in the door with a small smile on his face. "You guys coming? Carl Garrett is at work..."

  


Sara stood quickly, fishing the keys out of her pocket. "Blazing Saddle Avenue?"

  


Brass' smile widened as he nodded. "Yeah...makes you wonder who names the streets in this town, doesn't it?"

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

  
  


Sara climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine. She made the quick journey to I-15 and as she merged into the traffic she glanced at Brass through the rearview mirror.

  


"Which exit?"

  


Brass stifled a yawn and glanced down at his notes. "42A...onto 95...and then take exit 83."

  


She nodded and took the first exit as Grissom reached over and turned the radio on. He gave her a small smile and resisted the urge to place his hand on her knee. She returned his smile and after a quick glance at Brass through the mirror, only to find him watching the traffic through the side window, she turned her eyes back to the road in front of her.

  


Brass' voice broke her out of her thoughts of what she was going to do to the man sitting beside of her when they got home. "Sara...you're going to miss the exit."

  


Grissom hid his smile and turned his head towards the window beside of him. Sara gave a small huff and drove down the exit ramp, coming to a stop at the red light at the end. She turned slightly in her seat, glaring at Brass behind her sunglasses. "Would you like to drive?"

  


As Brass opened his mouth, Grissom spoke softly. "Sara, the light's green."

  


Brass watched her as she made the left turn onto Cheyenne and grinned. _Definitely needs more sleep, less caffeine._

  


Sara silently cursed each red light that slowed her progress to Carl Garrett. Grissom chuckled softly.

  


Sara turned her head towards him quickly. "What?"

  


"Screaming at the lights to change won't make them green any quicker..."

  


Brass let out a small laugh, which he tried to disguise as a cough. It didn't work apparently, as Sara turned to look at him.

  


"What are you laughing at?"

  


Brass gestured to the two sitting in front. "The two of you..."

  


Sara bit her lip to stop the smile and nodded before turning back and continuing down the road.

  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  


They made their way into the plant and Brass walked to the receptionist's desk, introducing himself and requesting to speak with Carl Garrett. Sara gently nudged Grissom's arm, keeping her eyes on Brass. He turned to look at her and smiled.

  


"Think he suspects?"

  


His smile broadened briefly and he shrugged his shoulders. "Probably..."

  


She looked up into his eyes, with puzzlement in her own. "It doesn't bother you?"

  


He shook his head slowly and looked back towards Brass to see him heading their way. "No...but...we'll talk about this later, okay?"

  


She nodded quickly and tore her eyes from him reluctantly.

  


Brass came to a halt in front of the two CSI's. "Okay. Garrett's working today, but he's currently at lunch." He gestured towards the receptionist. "The nice lady over there said he should be back within 15 minutes."

  


Grissom leaned his shoulder against the wall and looked out the glass doors. "Okay..."

  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  


Twenty minutes later, the door opened and a young man walked through. Grissom stood upright immediately, recognizing the resemblance of the man to Ben Garrett. He looked at Brass quickly. Jim nodded and stepped forward, blocking the young man's path.

  


"Mr. Garrett? Carl Garrett?"

  


The man stopped and glared at him. "Yeah?"

  


He pulled out his badge and showed it to the man standing in front of him. "Jim Brass, Las Vegas PD."

  


Carl stared into the man's eyes for a moment. "What the hell do you want?"

  


Brass smiled thinly and gestured to nothing in particular in the air. "Just to talk."

  


He glared at the detective for a few seconds longer. "Look...I paid the speeding ticket last week, okay?" He attempted to push his way past Brass. 

  


Grissom moved quickly and blocked the man once more.

  


"Who are you? His bodyguard?"

  


"Gil Grissom, Criminalistics. And...we're not here to discuss a speeding ticket. We're here to discuss the murder of Peter Marsden."

  


Carl stared at Grissom. "Peter. Yeah, he was Ben's friend."

  


Sara took the few steps required to stand beside of Grissom. "Not your friend too?"

  


Carl looked Sara over carefully. Almost too carefully for Grissom's liking. "I was an _acquaintance_ of Peter's. I was more interested in Susanne. That's why I'd go over once in a while." He looked at the three people standing in front of him. "But, Susanne wasn't there that night."

  


Brass watched Carl. He wasn't liking what he was seeing. "Is there somewhere we can talk?"

  


Carl shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "The breakroom, I guess. Come on."

  


They followed Carl down a short hall and into the empty breakroom. Sara watched him as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "Susanne wasn't there...but you were..."

  


"Yeah...I was there for a while. And then Ben and I left around midnight or so...I had to get home. It was getting late, I was tired. Susanne had to work a little later than I thought she did...and...I have to be here at 7 in the mornings."

  


Grissom watched him as Carl subconsciously ran his tongue across his front tooth. His eyes focused in on the tooth. _Broken...recently, judging by the way he keeps feeling it. Like it feels...odd._

  


Grissom nodded and stood. "We may have some more questions for you later." His voice held no hint of his suspicions.

  


Carl smiled at the older man and watched as the other two stood as well. "Sure...no problem. You know where to find me."

  


As the three investigators left the room, Carl's smile turned into a full-fledged grin.

  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  


They made their way back to the parking lot of the Las Vegas Police Department and dropped Jim off. He looked at the two and smiled. "You know...you two really need some sleep." He glanced at his watch. "You do realize that it's after 1?"

  


Grissom shook his head slowly and chuckled as he watched Jim walk off. He turned to Sara, only partly surprised to see her trying to suppress a yawn. He moved his hand to her knee and gently squeezed. "Hey..."

  


She placed her hand over his and turned to meet his gaze. "Hey..."

  


"What do you say we go back to my place and go to bed?"

  


She grinned brightly at him. He felt his face redden quickly. "I mean...to sleep..."

  


She squeezed his hand tightly. "I'm not tired, Griss..."

  


He laughed lightly. "Yeah...that's why you're yawning." 

  


She rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. "Gil..."

  


"Sara...let's just go home, sleep for a few hours..."

  


"And head to the Marsden residence for a walk through?"

  


He grinned and nodded. He raised her hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on her palm. "And...I promise...later..."

  


"I'm going to hold you to that promise." 

  


Her bright smile made his heart race. "I know...I definitely know..."

  
  
  
  
  



	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

  
  


Fresh from their shower after five hours of sleep, he sat on the bed and watched her get dressed as he buttoned his shirt. He silently wished that he could just take her back to bed and...

  


"Gil?"

  


His eyes refocused on her face and he returned her smile. "Yeah?"

  


"Didn't hear a word I said, did you?"

  


He chuckled softly and shook his head. "No, but...my hearing's fine...I was just...thinking."

  


"And...not about the case, I take it..." She walked slowly to him and ran her fingers through his drying curls. 

  


"No...what were you saying?" His hands fought the urge to grab her hips and pull her down. Instead, he made himself stand beside of her.

  


She placed a soft kiss on his lips before she turned and walked to the nightstand, picking up her cellphone and sliding it into her jacket pocket. "What do you think about Carl Garrett?"

  


He mimicked her movements and slid his own phone into his pocket and turned to look at her. "Guilty."

  


She nodded slowly in agreement. "He had a broken tooth..."

  


"Yeah, I noticed." He followed her out of the bedroom, down the hall, and into the living room. "Slightly swollen lip...no bruising..."

  


She shrugged as she picked up the keys to the Tahoe and tossed them to him. "Could be slow to bruise...like someone else I know..." 

  


He grinned and opened the door for her.

  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  


They walked up the walkway to the door of the duplex and stood there for a moment. Clearing his thoughts, Grissom broke the seal on the door and held it open for Sara. They walked slowly through the hall, pausing briefly to look into the kitchen.

  


Sara took a deep breath and continued down the hall, coming to a stop in the middle of the living room. Grissom walked to the mantle and turned to look at Sara.

  


"So, Sidle..."

  


She nodded slowly. "Okay...let's do it..."

  


He smiled as they began to piece the puzzle together.

  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  


Ben glanced at the clock on the wall and stood up quickly. "Dammit!"

  


Peter smiled at his friend and set his can of Coke on the coffee table. "You're late, buddy..."

  


"I know!" He hurriedly grabbed his belongings and turned to his brother. "You coming?"

  


Carl shook his head with a grin. "No...I thought I'd hang around for a bit...I'll see if Susanne will give me a ride home when she gets here."

  


Ben nodded quickly and said his goodbyes before rushing out the door. 

  


Peter made idle small talk with the young man sitting in the chair across from him. He didn't really know Carl that well. He seemed like a good enough guy...

  


Peter stood and walked towards the hall. Turning back, he glanced at Carl once more before making his way to the kitchen. His sneakers squeaked lightly against the linoleum as he pivoted around the bar. 

  


Opening the cabinet, he pulled out a shot glass and placed it on the marbelized countertop. Kneeling down, he jerked open a drawer and pulled out one of the vials that Susanne had left for him. He popped the seal and poured the contents into the glass. He stood staring at the dark fluid, his mouth almost watering in anticipation. His body craving, aching to be fed.

  


"What the hell?!"

  


Peter's eyes shot up from the glass to meet the bewildered stare of Carl. "Uh..."

  


Carl's eyes shifted to the empty vial resting on the counter and back to the glass before meeting Peter's again. "What the hell is that?"

  


"Look...Carl...there's something you should know..."

  


"Tell me that's wine...just...thick wine...packaged..." He shook his head, trying to make sense of the scene in front of him.

  


"Carl...it's not wine, it's...well, it's blood..."

  


Carl stared at Peter. "Blood? Why...what..."

  


Peter smiled shyly and shifted his weight nervously. "I...uh...there's really no easy way to say this..."

  


"Say what?"

  


"Well...I'm..." He looked into Carl's eyes. Taking a deep breath, he continued. "I'm...a vampire..."

  


He watched Carl carefully. He watched as the confusion spread across his features. He listened as Carl began to chuckle softly. He listened as the chuckle grew into laughter. "Okay..."

  


He shook his head slowly. "No, Carl...I'm serious..."

  


Carl stared into Peter's eyes, searching for the joke. Seeing only the reality of Peter's confession, he took a step back. 

  


Peter began to walk around the counter towards him. "Carl...listen..."

  


"No...man...stay away from me..."

  


Carl found himself backing away, his fear consuming him. Peter continued to walk towards him. Carl's fear was quickly nearing panic as he re-entered the living room. He stumbled over the ottoman and fought to keep his balance. Peter grabbed his arm to keep him from falling.

  


Panic coursed through Carl's body, quickly turning to anger. His right fist swung out and caught Peter in the jaw. The surprise of the action caused him to release Carl's arm. His balance lost, he fell over the ottoman, his mouth colliding with the coffee table. 

  


Peter stood there, dazed and wiping the blood from his mouth. Carl found his footing quicker than he expected and glanced at the mantle. Seeing Ben's gun lying there, he grabbed it and spun around. Glaring at the man in front of him, he took a step forward.

  


"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

  


Peter's eyes widened and he took a step backwards. "I was just...I was just trying to help you..."

  


Carl pointed the gun in Peter's direction. "Help me what? Give you my blood? You're a freak...a fucking freak!"

  


Peter continued to move backwards down the hall, talking calmly. "Carl, no...I just didn't want you to get hurt."

  


"You broke my fucking tooth!"

  


Peter's fear settled in the pit of his stomach when he realized he was standing in the kitchen. With Carl in front of him. Waving a gun at him. And...he had no way out.

  


He began talking again, trying to assure Carl that he meant no harm. "It was an accident...I was just trying to keep you from falling..."

  


"You PUSHED me!"

  


"No...no, Carl...I didn't..."

  


"Now, I'm a liar? The freak is calling me a liar?!"

  


"I'm not a freak, Carl..." Peter took a step forward.

  


"Don't come near me!"

  


Another step forward. "Carl, listen to me..."

  


"STOP!"

  


"Carl..." One more step.

  


The gunshot echoed throughout the house. 

  


Carl stood in shock as he watched Peter's body crumple to the floor. _His face. Dear God. What did I do?_

  


He stood motionless for what seemed to be an eternity. His mind was racing. _Wait...he deserved it. He tried to...he was...he was coming after me. He was a freak._

  


He shoved the gun into the waistband of his jeans and looked around the room. He watched the blood spread out around Peter's body. He glanced back towards the living room. _I can't clean it up. There's too much. _He looked back at the lifeless body on the floor and kicked the leg with the toe of his boot. _Fucking freak._

  


His mind began to slow down, to formulate an idea. _If he told me...he's told other people. He was a freak...people don't like freaks...people hurt freaks..._

  


He glanced at the counter and grabbed the dishtowel that was lying there. Kneeling beside of Peter, he dipped the towel into the warm blood and smiled. Running back down the hall, he made his way to the wall. 

  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  


Grissom and Sara stood before the wall staring at the offending word written in blood. 

  


Sara turned to Grissom and sighed. "So...we need to search his residence for Ben's gun..."

  


"And we have prints, impressions, a tooth fragment...if they match Carl Garrett..."

  


Sara nodded slowly. "Evidence never lies."

  



	7. Chapter Seven

A/N: This chapter contains certain terms that I personally see as derogatory. But...in the context of the story, I felt it was the best way to write it. If it offends anyone, I apologize in advance. Also...this will be the final chapter of this story. Kind of. There is another chapter, but it will not be posted here. Chapter 8 will be written and posted on my website within the next few days. www.irishdachsie.com

  
  


Chapter Seven

  
  


With a search warrant in his hand, Grissom climbed into the passenger seat of the Tahoe. He smiled as Sara drummed her fingers against the steering wheel. 

  


"Is he coming, or not?"

  


He chuckled lightly at the irritation in her tone. "He said he'd be right out."

  


A knock on the driver's side window caused Sara to jump slightly. She looked out at the smiling man and rolled her eyes. She quickly motioned for him to get in the back seat and reached down to turn the ignition. 

  


The door had barely closed before Sara was pulling out of the parking lot. 

  


"Is she always this impatient?" Brass smiled at Grissom.

  


Grissom shook his head and cast a quick glance at Sara. "You have no idea…"

  


"Keep it up and you can both walk." She gave Grissom a wink and a brief smile before turning her eyes back to the road.

  


Brass flipped through the file resting in his lap, examining the notes and photographs taken at the scene. "So…you're pretty sure about Carl Garrett, huh?"

  


Grissom turned in his seat and stared at the man. "Yeah. You could say that we're pretty sure about him, Jim."

  


Hearing the tone in Grissom's voice, Brass looked up from the file to meet Grissom's stare. "Hey…just making small talk. Personally, I think the little bastard is guilty as sin. I don't think he went there with the intentions of walking away a murderer…but, his hands are definitely dirty…"

  


Grissom's stare softened slightly and he nodded before turning back in his seat. "Take a left here, Swe…Sara."

  


Sara shot him a look and grinned. "Here?"

  


"Uh…yeah…"

  


Brass shook his head and chuckled to himself. _And just who do they think they're fooling?_

  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  


Brass rapped his knuckles against the wooden door, and rocked back and forth on his heels as he waited for someone to answer the door. Hearing movement inside, he knocked again. 

  


The sound of the chain being unlatched brought Jim's movement to a halt. The door swung open, and a disheveled looking Carl Garrett stood in the doorway.

  


"Well, if it isn't Vegas' finest…what can I do for you?"

  


Handing the young man the paperwork, Brass announced calmly, "Search warrant…we need to look around."

  


Carl glanced over the paper in his hand and moved out of the doorway. "Whatever…have fun…"

  


Grissom watched the young man carefully as he made his way back towards the living room. "Brass…"

  


"Yeah…I'll watch him…you two get what you need."

  


Grissom nodded and tore his eyes from the obviously intoxicated man sitting on his worn sofa. "Come on Sara…"

  


Sara followed Grissom down the short hall and into what they assumed to be Carl's bedroom. 

  


"Nice…"

  


"Just process Sara…" He quickly began going through the closet and pulled out a pair of boots. "Blood on the soles…he's making this easy…"

  


"Yeah…very easy…"

  


He looked over at the brunette standing beside the bed. He raised his eyebrow and shook his head. "Is that what I think it is?"

  


She placed the object into an evidence bag and bit her lip. "I'm guessing it's Ben's gun…"

  


Grissom glanced around the room, bringing his eyes back to her as he heard her sigh. "What is it?"

  


"Something's not right…this is just…too easy, Griss…"

  


"Like he's wanting to be caught?"

  


"Like he doesn't care whether or not he's caught…"

  


He took a deep breath and exhaled. "The human conscience can make a person…"

  


"Grissom…"

  


"Well…it can…" He gave her a small smile and shrugged his shoulders.

  


She returned his smile with one of her own and picked up the evidence that they had collected. "Let's go talk to Brass."

  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  


After they had shown Jim the gun and the blood soaked boots, Brass pulled out his cell phone and asked for a cruiser to come by and pick up Mr. Carl Garrett. Grissom stood in the hallway, carefully watching the young man nurse the beer he held in his hand.

  


Grissom made his way into the living room and took a seat in the chair across from Carl. Garrett glared at him silently, trying his best to intimidate the older man. As Grissom returned the man's stare, Carl chuckled to himself and took another drink of his beer.

  


"How much have you had to drink tonight, Mr. Garrett?" 

  


"A few..." He looked into Grissom's eyes. "I'm not drunk."

  


Grissom nodded and leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs as he continued to look at Garrett. Out of the corner of his eye, Grissom saw the familiar blue lights of a police cruiser pull into the parking lot. 

  


"You know, Mr. Garrett...we are going to want to talk to you in more detail."

  


Carl shrugged his shoulders and set the bottle on the table beside of the sofa. "So...talk."

  


Brass walked into the room, followed closely by a middle-aged officer. "Actually, Garrett...we need to ask you to come down to the station and talk to us...if you don't mind."

  


Carl narrowed his eyes at Brass and looked at the officer standing beside of him. "Am I under arrest?"

  


Brass shook his head nonchalantly and gave the man a crooked smile. "No...we would just prefer to ask you some questions there..." 

  


Carl stared intently at Brass before reaching over to grab his coat. "Whatever..."

  


"Oh...and Mr. Garrett?" 

  


Garrett turned his eyes back to Brass and questioned him silently.

  


"You may want to call your lawyer...if you have one..."

  


Carl pulled his jacket on and laughed lightly. "No lawyer needed. I haven't done anything wrong...let's just get this over with, okay? I have things to do tonight."

  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  


They sat in the interrogation room quietly. Grissom and Sara studied Carl as he pushed a pack of cigarettes back and forth between his hands on the table.

  


"Since when can't you smoke while you're being questioned?" 

  


Brass smiled and leaned against the door. "This isn't Hollywood, Garrett. In real life, government offices are smoke-free...including interrogation rooms."

  


Carl rolled his eyes and picked up the pack, shoving them back in his shirt pocket. He looked back at Grissom after a quick glance at Sara. "So, what do you want to know?"

  


Sara placed the gun on the table and looked at Carl. "First...what can you tell us about this?"

  


He shrugged his shoulders after a quick look at the object. "It's Ben's."

  


"Yes, we know that." Grissom's voice was calm. "How did it end up in your bedroom?"

  


Carl took a quick breath and leaned back in his chair. "Ben left it at the apartment this afternoon. I put it on my nightstand so I'd remember to take it to him today."

  


Grissom nodded and a small smile played at his lips. "Okay...and...how did Peter Marsden's blood get all over the soles of these boots?"

  


Carl's eyes widened slightly as Grissom placed the boots on the table. "Uh...after Ben...Ben and I left that night...I remembered that I had forgotten something...and...I went back...and...I found him...I called 911 from the payphone down the street..."

  


Brass slowly walked over to the table and sat down. "What did you forget?"

  


Carl's eyes snapped to the Captain's. "Huh?"

  


"What did you forget at the Marsden residence that you needed to go back and get?"

  


"Uh..." Carl looked nervously between Brass and Grissom. "My cellphone..."

  


Sara leaned forward on the table, catching Garrett's attention. "You said that you and your brother left together that night..."

  


"Yeah..."

  


"Well, you see...we have a slight problem there."

  


Carl folded his arms across his chest and stared at the woman. "And that would be?"

  


"Well...that would be...Ben has an alibi. He left to pick up Jason Stewart from work...and witnesses saw them together later. And your brother and Mr. Stewart both say that you weren't with them."

  


"Jason Stewart?"

  


Grissom noted the change of expression in Carl's eyes.

  


Sara nodded. "Yes. Do you know him?"

  


Sara watched the anger flood into his irises as his eyes darkened. "Why would Ben go pick up that faggot?"

  


Grissom cleared his throat. "Mr. Garrett...how did you get that bruise on your lip?"

  


Carl's hand automatically went to the injury as his tongue ran across his tooth. "I got into a fight the other night...big deal..."

  


"I notice that you have a broken tooth..."

  


"Yeah? So fucking what? The bastard broke my tooth...is that a crime now?"

  


"It could be..." Grissom leaned back in his chair and pulled a small bag out of his shirt pocket. "You see...I found this at the crime scene..."

  


"What the fuck is that?" Carl's anger was rising even more.

  


"This...is a tooth fragment."

  


Carl leaned forward against the table and glared at Grissom, spitting his words out at the older man. "So...fucking...what?!"

  


"So, Garrett..." Brass stood back up and paced back and forth, twirling a pen in his fingers. "Why don't you tell us what really happened? Because...we already know the truth. You can make this easier on yourself if you just tell us."

  


A small laugh escaped Garrett's lips, followed by a huff. "The freak deserved it..."

  


Brass stopped his pacing and stared at him. "Would you care to elaborate?"

  


"A fucking vampire? Please...what a crock of shit...he was a fucking freak."

  


Sara tilted her head and looked at him. "So...because YOU thought he was a freak...YOU thought he deserved to die?"

  


Carl glared at Sara for a moment. "The bastard attacked me. Tried to suck my blood or some shit. It was self-defense."

  


"If that was the case...then, why was there a glass of blood on the counter that he was apparently getting ready to feed from?"

  


Garrett stood and leaned over the table. "Because he was a FREAK! Worse than a fucking faggot...so I shot the fucker in the face...that'll teach him to fuck with me..."

  


His tirade over, he sat back down and smiled at the three people in front of him. "He deserved it..."

  


Brass walked to the door and let two officers in. As they handcuffed him and read him his rights, his eyes never left Grissom's. 

  


"You know I'll get off. It was self-defense...I can prove it..."

  


"And...we can prove otherwise, Mr. Garrett."

  


His ranting continued as the officers led him down the hall. Brass looked over at the two CSI's and shook his head. 

  


"And he calls Peter Marsden a freak?"

  


Grissom looked at Brass, his features softening slightly. "You know, Jim...I really hate that word..."

  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  


Sara found Grissom in his office a couple of hours later, diligently filling out his paperwork.

  


"Hey..."

  


Grissom looked up and smiled softly. "Hey, yourself..."

  


"You okay?" She walked around his desk and placed her hands on his shoulders as she leaned down and kissed the top of his head.

  


"Yeah..." He glanced at the clock on the wall and smiled. "You ready to go home?"

  


"Mm-hm. Long night...are you ready?"

  


He signed his name to the last paper and closed the file. Looking up at her, a grin began to form quickly. "Yes, I am...I believe I have a promise to fulfill."

  


Her grin mirrored his. "Yes you do, Dr. Grissom."

  


He stood and grabbed his jacket and held the door open for her. "Come on..."

  


They walked quickly to his Tahoe and climbed in. He looked over at her smiled. "Nice job tonight, Sidle."

  


She smiled brightly at him. "Thanks."

  


She watched the lights of Vegas as he drove to his townhouse. "Where else but Vegas..."

  


"What?"

  


She chuckled lightly. "Vampires...as victims of hate crime...where else but Vegas?"

  


He took her hand in his and squeezed it lightly. "The important thing is...we got him."

  


She nodded and laced her fingers with his. "And...Peter Marsden can rest..." 

  


The rest of the short journey was taken in a comfortable silence, their minds focusing on what was to come when they got home.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
